


Gonna be Okay

by cynicismcatalyst



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicismcatalyst/pseuds/cynicismcatalyst
Summary: A collection of works that tangentially belong to my SWTOR era universe, but aren't directly tied into the main story — they can be read separately, with no necessary knowledge of any of the other fics.
Relationships: Andronikos Revel/Female Sith Inquisitor
Kudos: 1





	1. Will The Water Wash It Away?

**Author's Note:**

> So this one was... written in 2014. For posterity's sake, I've done minimal editing, mostly to fix up some bad fumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna put this one roughly 3641 BBY. Just after the end of the Inquisitor's main storyline, ascending to the Dark Council.

The datapad smashed into the opposite wall.

A long day had preceded all this Imperial pretentiousness, and Dan was not in the mood to deal with it at all. Throwing the datapad hadn't been the best choice, but it had made her feel better—momentarily. Head falling to her hands, the sorcerer groaned softly, wanting only to collapse back and go to sleep, but no. The Dark Council wanted to convene over some matter or another, and she wasn't quite daring enough to tell them to fuck off and leave her alone today.

The Fury was empty, and she wasn't changing that any time soon. Ashara, Talos, and Xalek were on some expedition to a planet in the Outer Rim, presumably following a lead on some archeology thing or another. Something she'd not had the time to indulge in since ascending to the Dark Council. The Ewok mercenary was off Force knows where, probably attempting to hunt down a Rodian or Nautolan to eat (she reflected absently that Treek never had _actually_ managed to secure one in decent condition). HK… HK was in the back of the ship, presumably recharging, and thankfully silent. Andronikos was gone, supervising the small fleet he was beginning to amass, returning to his pirate's ways and yet, retaining his ties to the Sith woman he had wed. It was stressful.

Not long ago she'd gotten a message from Andronikos, back before he'd gone to begin finding ships and crews, began to prey on Republic ships and help finish kicking down the same government he'd once served.

Dan was acutely aware of how cold the ship was, now, how empty and how fragile it was. She'd been her own protector for so long; she'd forgotten what it was like to have a protector, if only in name, in one place, in one way. She had seen Andronikos take down an acolyte in a handful of seconds, and while he was not her equal in combat, not in that manner, never could be—he was her equal in every other way.

_"We're in each other's orbits until the stars go cold. That's love, isn't it?"_

How could something so warm hurt so much? It was just—it was just silly, stupid emotions, and it hurt.

_"I know you better than you want to think."_

Force, how did such a rough-around-the-edges man get so far under her skin?

The woman shook her head, deciding that she wouldn't so much as tell the Dark Council that she'd be absent, let alone show up. She needed time to think, time to work all the kinks out of her mind and straighten her emotions. She didn't want the Council yanking her around by her own feelings. They already knew they could manipulate her with her crew, threatening Ashara or Xalek, threatening the Ewok mercenary, or Andronikos, or Talos or—

Abruptly, she stood, crossing the small bedroom and grabbing the cloak that hung on the wall, cloth flinging across her broad shoulders and settling around her frame, utterly hiding that she was even female, let alone Darth Noxx of the Council.

"Mind the ship, HK. I'll be back later."

A quiet affirmation returned in the droid's mechanical inflections, and she smiled softly. Boots shifted as she leaned from side to side, settling her feet within the leather once again before striding across the main hold and to the ramp.

Black hood was lifted up to cover equally dark hair, shading bright eyes from the perpetual gloom that was Dromund Kaas. If she ever got a chance to change her place of residence… she would. Dromund Kaas wasn't bad; just… it weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Rather than walk into the city to take the taxi to the Dark Council chambers, she walked the other way, out into the jungle. If something attacked, Dan wouldn't hesitate to end its life, but she wasn't looking for trouble, not today. Right now, she just wanted to walk.

Rain pattered off leaves and grass, slowly soaking her cloak. She didn't give a damn. It was life, and it was living. It was doing something she believed she would never get to truly do. Dan wanted her own life, away from the Council, away from the Sith, away from the turmoil of galactic war.

—She wanted a family. She wanted to hear children's feet running around, on ground, the laughter of toddlers as they learned to walk.

Her wanderings had brought her to the Fen of the Eldest, but she dared not disturb him, choosing instead to rest beneath one of the larger trees.

Away from the war. _Ha_. What a delusion that was. The Jedi would hardly take a woman who had caused this much damage into their ranks. The Dark Council would be relentless in hunting her down and the Jedi would mistrust her for the rest of her life. There was no way of pretending to be some ordinary hopeful looking to enter the Order; her power was too focused for that. It was no longer raw and uncontrolled as it had been on Korriban.

She had sisters—an adoptive daughter, but… Drayan was already fully grown; a Csillian orphan with sheer power in the Force and already an adult in her own right.

The rain dripped on, and time passed. Dusk, then darkness. She'd grown cold and stiff sitting there, and with a grumble, heaved herself to her feet, ignoring the protests of old scars. She needed to make the trek back to the Wall, at the very least.


	2. To Teach a Sith to Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up a slave and being apprenticed as a Sith leaves a girl little time to learn how to dance. One quiet day within their new home, Andronikos takes it upon himself to teach his wife at least the basics of listening to a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also written in 2014, but this one didn't even need any edits.
> 
> 3640 BBY / interlude between the Chapter 3 ending and the Rise of the Hutt Cartel

The first time he tries to teach her how to dance, a frown creases her brow and her feet move like bricks are tied to them. Andronikos can hardly move without dragging his wife along- and he has to wonder how a girl grew up without knowing how to dance, even informally.

He eventually settles on trying to teach Dan how to pick up a rhythm from a song first, picking something he recalls from his youth- a decently paced song with a strong beat, and setting up in the wide area of their half furnished home, upstairs, where the rain could beat against the window and the clouds dilute what little light even filtered through them- and he played that music, soft.

"Just _listen_ to it, Sith." His words were soft, the pet name falling from his lips without thought, "Feel it, I guess. Kinda like you do the Force thing, but with your ears."

When Dan looks puzzled, but accepting of it all the same –she wanted to experience everything she had missed, being raised as a slave and later trained as a Sith- the music, the joy of exploring a new house without worry, without fear...

Blue eyes fix on the pirate-turned-pilot-turned-pirate and she listens as much as she watches.

Andronikos sways from side to side, adding a small bounce on each soft beat, and with a grin, watches as his dark-haired wife catches on. Dancing is natural with the right music, and it's infectious, spreading to those nearby. By the time a handful of standard minutes had passed, and the piece of music ended, both husband and wife were grinning, "See? Not bad at all."

"-No, it's not."

"Care to try it again?"

A nod.

He offers his hand, motioning with the other in the vague direction of the commlink and the portable speakers it was hooked into. The quality was nothing good, the music tinny, but it wasn't impossible to dance to.

Cold, calloused fingers slipped into his own, and he drew her close, letting the music's rhythm's guide the both of them. Time flew by, hair was let down, and the skies darkened, but the music kept playing, the Sith dancing with her pirate and the pilot dancing with his Sith.

She felt so comfortable, there with her fingers twined in Andronikos's and with his hand resting on her waist.

By the time Ashara found herself weaving out of the makeshift library behind the open space, the two were dancing as confidently as if they had been doing it forever, hips swinging, shoulders dipping here and there, feet landing firmly on the floor to the myriad beats of the songs—

The Togruta took her leave before they took notice of how late it was.


	3. The Worried Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andronikos has never been a man for worry; a devil-may-care pirate has never worried. There was no love lost between Andronikos and the Sith whose ship he now piloted, at first. Andronikos did fall for her, ignoring his crush on Alderaan and eventually following through by Makeb, he can't help but worry now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more from 2014. The danikos bug hit hard that year, looks like.
> 
> Set roughly 3639 BBY / Rise of the Hutt Cartel

There were days he hated. Days when the Empire conducted live-fire exercises to weed out the incompetent and weak. Sure, he knew his wife would be fine but he couldn't help but worry; what if someone more skilled in lightsaber combat confronted her, what if someone stunned her and swung too fast for her to mount any kind of defense?

Andronikos wasn't a man prone to worry—he tipped odds in his favor so many times there was no reason for it. But in a world full of Force users, and with his own wife being one, well, he couldn't not worry. He didn't stand a chance against these people. The Republic's soldiers, the Empire's cannon fodder, those he could deal with, those he could fight and defeat. But put him against a Sith , and try as he might, he wouldn't win. He understood why Dan took Ashara with her so often, or that assassin droid in the back of the ship—the HK unit gave him shivers. He understood why she had left him to keep the Fury after Taris, after Hoth; they were coming up against more and more Jedi and opposing Sith, and, he guessed, she had started to care for him—heh, the rough pirate man who hitched a ride with a Sith lady to pilot her ship—and left him to guard Fury. Sure, he'd been angry the first couple of times, but when Dan came back that one time, covered in lightning burns and clothing charred by blaster bolts, yeah, he started to understand. Ashara had come back in the same condition that day, maybe even worse. But they'd come back. Whoever had done that to them hadn't gone back to their families. He wasn't even sorry for that.

So, when she comes stumbling in, night after night, too tired to do anything more than shuck her shoes and collapse into bed, Andronikos can't help but feel protective, maybe even threatened. It was stupid; her foes were dead and they'd never reach him or his wife again, but threatened all the same. Those days—those days he would sit on the edge of their bed and gently tuck her in, watching her face soften in sleep. Dan looked so much younger when she relaxed, and it wasn't often that she truly relaxed. It made him wonder if they would be able to have a family the way both of them had discussed. 

Shaking his head, wondering how he had the luck to not only fall in love with a dangerous woman, but to fall for one who fell for him back. Alderaan was where it had started, for him, but… was that where it sparked for Dan? He supposed he'd never know.

His musings were interrupted by the hiss of hydraulics and boots hitting the durasteel deckplates. He knew that sound painfully well; today had not been another bad day and Dan was ready to hit the ground. Behind her trailed softer footsteps, those of an assassin, and he knew Xalek was tired enough to be heard. A smile flickered onto his face, and he shook his head. Ashara and Talos must not be back from their trip down to Dromund Kaas yet, or they'd have come in at the same time.

Sure enough, the Kaleesh stalked past the door and down to his quarters, and behind him, diverting her own path, was his wife, dark hair disheveled and blue eyes halfway closed. Boots landed in a heap by their doorway and Andronikos bounced himself off the wall by the cockpit, following her into their room. As much as he enjoyed their particular brand of bedroom roughhousing, he figured now would be a good time to just be a comfort. To curl up and play protector for just one night more.


End file.
